Hey Arthur, Wanna Go to the Ball With Me?
by AA Addict
Summary: Arthur and Alfred have been 'friends' ever since their first year at Hogwarts. They're forever teasing each other, and just generally being a nuisance that the other couldn't live without. So when Arthur receives a dainty little rose from Alfred, it has to be a prank, right? What Arthur didn't know was that it would be one of the best 'pranks' he'd ever receive. UsUk fluff.
1. Chapter 1

Arthur sat down at the Slytherin table, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He _knew_ he should've gone to sleep when Ivan had. But _no_ , he just had to stay up till five in the morning reading muggle books and practising some newly-discovered curses to use on Alfred and Francis.

"I told you to go to bed when I did, Arthur."

He jumped, and turned to see Ivan staring at him, smiling calmly. Arthur shivered, slowly turning back to his plate and helping himself to a couple of buttered scones. _Who knows what's going through Ivan's head right now..._

"You're sleepy, right?" Ivan said, and Arthur nodded in response. "I'll help you wake up!"

Arthur jolted as Ivan pat his head repeatedly, hard. His hot tea splashed onto his robes, making him yelp in pain.

"You're awake now, da?" Ivan said, still smiling peacefully.

"There was no need for that, you twit!" Arthur yelled, without thinking. Hesitantly, he turned towards Ivan, immediately noticing the intimidating aura surrounding him.

"Is Arthur being ungrateful for what I did for him?"

"No!" Arthur hastened to reply, taking his robes off reluctantly. "Just don't whack me on the head next time... You bloody twit." He added under his breath, so Ivan wouldn't be able to hear him.

He turned back to his breakfast, reading his timetable as he ate. _Defence, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures. Most of my lessons are with Alfred today. Lucky me. Saying that though, I could turn his hair pink during Transfiguration; McGonagall should be pleased with me if I did that! Sixth-year stuff, that is! It's a pity none of my lessons are with Francis, though. Seeing Francis with beaver teeth would be amusing..._

Smirking to himself as he formulated the plan for Alfred's Bad Hair Day in his head, he took out one of his curse books and became absorbed in it. As a result of this, he didn't notice an owl standing in front of him. That is, until it pecked his finger impatiently.

"Argh!" Arthur yelped, putting his book down and glaring at the owl. "You've made me bleed, you have!"

He sucked his finger in annoyance, then raised his large eyebrows as he realised whose owl it was, and what said owl was holding.

"Freedom, why the hell do you have a rose?" Arthur asked the owl, who hooted impatiently.

"Alright, alright, keep your feathers on." Arthur said, rolling his eyes and taking the rose from Freedom's beak. He watched the eagle owl fly towards the owlery, then brought his attention back to the rose. He looked towards the Gryffindor table, seeking Alfred. He wasn't hard to find (he was the only one with a cowlick). Alfred wasn't looking his way, so he saw no point in trying to catch his attention. Instead, he stared at the rose. What was it? There was no deadly plant that disguised itself as a rose. _So that can only mean it's hiding a curse..._

He hastened to set the rose back down on the table, and he pulled out his wand from his pocket, preparing to burn the item. Last time he accepted an item from Alfred, it was a portkey, and he was teleported to the Divination classroom.

" _Incen-_ "

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, _mon cherie_."

"Give me my wand back, frogface!" Arthur yelled, getting up from his seat to try and retrieve his wand from a laughing Francis.

" _Non_ , _je ne pense pas_. After all, it wouldn't do to burn a sincere gift from your dear Alfie, would it?" Francis teased, grinning as a light pink slowly crept up Arthur's face.

"He's not _my_ Alfie- I mean, Alfred! And what do you mean, _sincere_? How'd _you_ know if it's sincere or not? I bet it's hiding a curse!" Arthur claimed, folding his arms crossly.

" _Mon dieu_ , Arthur! Can you not see my hand in zis? Ze rose was my idea! A rather beautiful rose, isn't it? A beautiful rose for a beautiful romance!" Francis said, picking the rose up and admiring it. "It has a rather nice sheen, doesn't it?"

"I-Alfr-beau- WHAT?!" Arthur spluttered. "I'm not _in love_ with him!"

"Say what you will." Francis responded, smirking.

"Plus, now I have _double_ the reason to doubt the sincerity of the rose! I mean, Alfred _and_ you? It'd be wiser to trust Feliciano to not eat pasta when confronted with it than trust you two!" Arthur said, smiling slightly when Ludwig's head whipped round at the mention of Feliciano.

"Kiku was a part of zis too, so just say his name to the rose already!" Francis said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Whose, Kiku's? Why the hell would I do that?" Arthur asked, puzzled. Francis groaned, fake-crying into his hands in hopelessness.

"No, _Alfred's_! Zis is why you weren't put in Ravenclaw. _Stupide_. Zis was supposed to be so romantic! You were supposed to receive ze rose, immediately know who sent it, and whisper ze name of your one true love into ze petals, and allow ze magic to unfold!" Francis cried, acting out his dream-scene with teary eyes.

"I _told_ you, he's not my one true love! But _fine,_ I'll do it. Give me my wand back first, though." Arthur said, rolling his eyes. He stuffed his wand back into his pocket and took the rose. He stared at it, apprehensive. What was this magic that Francis so badly wanted to see?

"...Alfred?"

The rose began to glow; its red petals glittered magnificently, illuminating Arthur's face. He wanted to glance up to spot Alfred at the Gryffindor table, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the rose.

All of a sudden, the petals began breaking off, leaving a trail of red sparkles as they joined together, like pieces of a jigsaw. Arthur spotted words written in white ink; he immediately recognised Alfred's scruffy print.

The stalk began to wriggle in Arthur's hand; he released it, and it unfurled to create a poster of an umbrella. Two words began writing themselves underneath the umbrella: Alfred and Arthur.

He blinked, taking the finished product in. The rose petals had joined together to form a heart, the words 'Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?' Written inside, with a poster that Arthur now recognised as the 'Umbrella of Togetherness', a popular thing in Japan to signify love, with his and Alfred's names on it underneath.

Arthur turned bright red, staring at the elaborate invitation before him. He would have never, _never_ , expected something like _this_. Arthur didn't know how to respond. Yes? No? Should he even respond now, or should he wait until Defence, where he could properly talk to Alfred about it? He turned round to Francis, who signalled for him to turn back round.

The display suddenly burst into a million red sparkles, making the table and food all glittery. Arthur suddenly realised that the whole of Hogwarts was now staring at him, and he felt very self-conscious. He contemplated gathering up his books and robes and walking out of the Great Hall right there and then to mull over what had just happened, but then he caught sight of Alfred's face.

Alfred was staring at him intently, his own face bright red. He suddenly realised how uncomfortable it must've been for Alfred too, to sit there, knowing it was him who sent the utterly embarrassing (albeit pretty) invitation. Arthur mulled over his choices. If he said no, he wouldn't have to go to the dance. However, Alfred would be very embarrassed and disappointed, not to mention upset. Plus, the poor guy wouldn't have a date for the event he'd been quite excited for (he'd been chattering non-stop during lessons about it; it drove Arthur mad). If he said yes, he'd have to go to the stupid ball and dance. Alfred would be happy though, and as much as Arthur enjoyed tormenting Alfred, he hated seeing him upset. He hated seeing Alfred upset more than he hated balls.

Arthur locked eyes with Alfred. He stared into those large blue eyes, and was certain of his answer. Still keeping eye contact, Arthur nodded his head, smiling. Alfred's face broke into a humongous smile, and he make a heart with his hands, causing Arthur to roll his eyes. _This isn't love or anything. I just hate to see him upset. That, and he's Alfred._

Francis started clapping from behind him, smiling. Over at the Ravenclaw table, Kiku stood up and clapped too. Matthew, Ludwig, Feliciano, and Ivan followed, then Professor Dumbledore, and soon the whole school was giving Arthur and Alfred a standing ovation. The two looked at each other, and started grinning uncontrollably. Arthur found the whole scene very funny, and he presumed Alfred did too, for he was laughing with him.

"And you say you're not in love with him." Francis said, smirking. "Look at you. You were positively _glowing_ when you and Alfred were staring at each other. Trust me, Arthur. I'm a master when it comes to zese kind of zings."

"I'm _not_ in love with him, Francis! I'm laughing with him because he's _Alfred_." Arthur insisted, stil not able to completely wipe the smile off his face. Francis laughed, his purple eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Keep saying that, Arthur. I dare you to say it on your wedding with him." Francis said, his laughter turning into cries of disgust as Arthur turned his shoes bright green with a simple incantation. He laughed at Francis' pure horror, then glanced at Alfred, who was laughing raucously, frequently taking sips of his milkshake, and always smiling.

Maybe Arthur did love Alfred.

Only a tiny bit.

A teeny tiny bit.

Only about an atom's size.

Right?

* * *

 **A/N- Hi! Thanks for reading this! :D I got this idea after seeing so much UsUk Pottertalia pictures, and I couldn't help but think that it's the most adorable thing ever, so I decided to write one XD I hope you like it! I tried to keep them all in character (Ivan was the hardest ^^"), so tell me how I did! :D**

 **Also, if you're a diehard Potterhead like me, you'll probably know that Hogwarts students would not be able to do any of these things this easily at all, especially if they're in fourth year (which these guys are). I just wanted to makethe story as Hetalia-like as possible, and I imagined France making the invitation very pretty and romantic, so that's what happened XD I doubt even Hermione would've been able to do the kind of things Arthur, Francis, Kiku , and Alfred did XD**

 **So, once again, thanks for reading, and I hope another update comes quickly! 'Cause I have a tendency to be sporadic with those ^^"**


	2. Chapter 2

"We're going to the Yule Ball together!"

"I know, Alfred. I happened to be there when you asked me. So kindly shut up so that you can pay attention, or Snape'll have your head!" Arthur hissed, trying his best to look like he wasn't talking. They were in Potions, and Alfred couldn't keep his trap shut. _Potions_. Snape _hated_ gryffindors. What on earth was Alfred playing at?!

"What colour are your dress robes?" Alfred asked in a loud whisper, looking at Arthur with bright blue eyes. "Mine are dark red. The colour resembles blood a little, but who cares? I mean, dark red looks- _ow_! What was that for, Artie?!" For Arthur had just kicked him under the table, hard. The slytherin facepalmed at Alfred's stupidity; the whole class plus Snape was looking at them, and Alfred still hadn't noticed.

"Everybody's staring at us because you're talking, you twit! Shut up!"

Alfred looked around the classroom, grinning sheepishly when his gaze reached Professor Snape, who was staring at Alfred malevolently, giving off a demonic aura which caused Arthur to shiver and Alfred to shrink in his seat.

"Care to explain why you thought it was appropriate to talk in my class, Jones?" Snape said, looking down at Alfred, who gulped. Arthur looked down at his notes, which were plentiful, then looked at Alfred's parchment, which had next to nothing written on them; the only thing Alfred had done was ink his hero emblem. Arthur's mind raced as he thought of a way to save Alfred from an almost-definite detention.

Without hesitation, Arthur got off his chair and pretended to search for a quill. Instead, however, he took out his wand and muttered a quick ' _Glacius_ ' around his area.

"I was... Ah... Um..." Alfred stammered. Arthur willed him not to break, and he stood up on the ice. Sure enough, his lack of balancing skill made sure that he slipped up, and Arthur made sure to take his and Alfred's parchments down with him.

"ARGH!" Arthur yelled, as his nose smashed against the floor, causing him intense pain. _I did not anticipate that at all_.

"Arthur!" Alfred cried out, immediately getting off his chair to aid him. "Are you alright?! Man, you complete _idiot_! Your nose is like a _fountain_!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Arthur hissed, wiping the blood away from his lips, making sure not to touch his nose. "It's bloody broken. Damn it." He shook his head. "That's not the point. The point is-"

"What else could be the point, dude? Your nose is _broken_!" Alfred yelled exasperatedly.

"Would you let me finish?" He whispered angrily. "Take my bloody parchment and act like it's your own."

"Why? What's the point? That's not gonna-"

"Just do as I bloody well say!" Arthur hissed, grabbing Alfred's parchment and sitting back on his chair, being extremely careful not to touch his nose in any way.

"Go to the hospital wing, Kirkland. Madam Pomfrey will be able to restore your nose." Snape ordered, but Arthur shook his head, much to the surprise of the other students. _Nobody_ refused an order from Snape.

"It's fine, I can mend it myself. I don't need help." Arthur said, and pointed his wand at his nose.

" _Episkey_." His nose became very warm, then very cold. Snape raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"Anyway, what I was going to say before... Well, _that_ happened, is that... Alfred was just helping me catch up, because I lost track of what you were saying." Arthur lied boldly, staring Snape straight in the eye. Alfred stared at him in confusion.

"We'll see about that, shall we?" Snape said silkily. "Jones!"

"Sir yes sir!" Alfred jumped, making the class laugh (but not for long; Snape's glare saw to that).

"What are the ingredients required to brew a successful Wit-Sharpening Potion?" Snape asked smoothly. Alfred blanched. He looked towards Arthur for help, who pointedly looked towards his own notes, which were in front of Alfred. He nodded his head, and peered at them.

"Um... Lemme see... Ah! Ground scarab beetles, cut ginger roots, and armadillo bile are needed to make a Wit-Sharpening Potion!" Alfred answered, grinning broadly. Snape scowled at him, then turned to Arthur.

"You. Why were you not taking notes?"

"I... Well, sir... I kinda..." Arthur 'umm'ed and 'ahh'ed for a couple more seconds, trying to think up a lie. "I... Well, truth be told, sir, I've become very excited for the upcoming Yule Ball, and it's been taking up quite a lot of my mind."

Arthur gulped, breaking into a cold sweat. If anyone who knew them opened their mouth and blabbed, it would all be over. Arthur crossed his fingers underneath the table that nobody could even think of being that cruel, especially after all his efforts.

Snape's eyes bore into Arthur's for what seemed like an eternity, but then finally, _finally_ , Snape turned round, striding up to his desk.

"Ten points will be taken from Gryffindor for talking during class, Jones. Does anybody else want to cause any further disruptions? No? Then turn to page two-hundred-and-sixty-seven, and brew a successful Wit-Sharpening Potion before the end of class. I shall not get my hopes up and expect a successful potion from every one of you, but I expect there to be no messes to be cleaned. The instructions are on the board. Begin."

Everyone heaved themselves out of their seats and prepared themselves. Alfred shot Arthur a grateful smile, to which Arthur simply rolled his eyes, and smiled back.

"My robes are lime-green, by the way." Arthur whispered.

* * *

"Kiku, could I ask you something?"

"What is it you would like to know, Arthur-san?"

Arthur and Kiku were in Herbology, extracting Bubotuber pus. It was an extremely disgusting affair, and Arthur would be glad when Herbology was over.

"You worked with Alfred on that invitation, didn't you?"

" _Hai_. I designed the 'Umbrella of Togetherness'. Did you like it?" Kiku asked, blinking in surprise as pus exploded out of his bubotuber. Arthur nodded.

"It was extremely well-made. But, what I actually wanted to ask was..." Arthur trailed off, hesitant. He didn't know what he wanted Kiku to respond with.

"Yes?"

"...Does Alfred...Damn, this is weird. Does Alfred... Love me?" Arthur asked, turning pink as he said it. Kiku gave a small smile.

"What would you like to hear, Arthur-san?" Kiku asked. Arthur blinked, taken by surprise.

"I... Don't know."

"Think." Kiku smiled. "Would you like it if I said he didn't?"

Arthur fell silent, deep in thought. If Alfred didn't love him, Arthur wouldn't feel so awkward hanging out with him like they usually do. _But won't you feel disappointed?_ No, he wouldn't. He didn't love Alfred. But then Arthur imagined Alfred dating another, smiling, laughing, and being happier with another than with him.

Arthur didn't like it. It sounded selfish, he knew, but he wanted Alfred all to himself. He wanted Alfred to be his happiest with _him_ , not some other person. If Alfred loved him, things would be awkward at first. But then he imagined leaving Hogwarts with Alfred, and staying with Alfred until the day he died.

That didn't sound too bad. He wouldn't have another dull day, because Alfred would be there to brighten it up.

"...No. In fact..." Arthur swallowed. "I'd hate it if he didn't. But don't you dare tell Alfred I said that! This is a secret between you and me, okay?" Arthur added hastily, turning a dusty pink. Kiku smiled at him serenely.

"Of course, Arthur-san. In response to your question, Alfred-san did let slip his affections for you. For example, during the making of your invitation, Alfred-san insisted that it 'had to be perfect, just like Artie'. He went very red and hid behind a comic book after he said that." Kiku said, putting his bubotuber pus into a flask.

"He really said that?"

" _Hai_."

"Damn..." Arthur muttered, suddenly feeling very hot.

"He has also said your name a couple of times in his sleep, during his stays at my house. I haven't brought it up until now." Kiku added, laughing softly at Arthur's face.

"You resemble one of Lovino's treasured tomatoes." Kiku commented, which only made Arthur redder still.

"This is awkward..." Arthur muttered. "Never would've expected that..."

"Yao-san told me about what you did for Alfred-san during Potions." Kiku said suddenly.

"Oh... He did?" Arthur replied lamely.

"Why did you do that for him?" Kiku asked. Arthur blinked, then shrugged.

"I did it because he's... Alfred. He's just an exciteable boy who loves hamburgers and heroes. He doesn't deserve detention." Arthur replied simply.

" _Iie_. You did that because you love Alfred-san." Kiku corrected.

"What?! I do bloody well not! Alfred is simply a friend!"Arthur protested, waving his arms frantically, just missing a flask of pus.

"Would you risk breaking your nose and getting a detention for Francis-san or I?" Kiku questioned.

"Yes!"

"Would you?"

"Yeah! I'd just heal myself with the _Episkey_ charm like I did today, and there! Good as new! Plus, Snape favours the slytherins, so I knew he wouldn't give me a detention." Arthur insisted.

"Let's imagine that you didn't know the _Episkey_ charm, and you would have to suffer from a broken nose for the remainder of the lesson, and get detention every Saturday. Would you still do it for Francis-san and I?" Kiku rephrased. Arthur opened his mouth, then shut it again. Would he? As much as he tried to, he couldn't imagine himself doing the same for either of them.

"You're not going to get offended if I say no, right?" Arthur said sheepishly.

" _Iie_. But would you do it for Alfred?" Kiku asked. Arthur looked down in thought. He imagined doing detention every Saturday because of Alfred's stupidity. It would irk him to no end, and he would probably yell at Alfred a lot about it, but...

"Yeah. I would. But it doesn't mean anything!" Arthur said.

"But it does, Arthur-san. You'll take the fall for Alfred-san for no other reason other than him being who he is. You can't comprehend not doing it, or doing it for a different reason. To you, he is the perfect reason. And that, Arthur-san, is love." Kiku explained, laughing softly at Arthur's embarrassed expression.

"I don't love him, okay? He's just important to me, is all. Nothing else, Kiku." Arthur persisted, feeling the heat creep up his cheeks. The worst part about this whole thing was that Arthur knew that Kiku had spoken the truth. It all made sense. Everything that Kiku had said had rung true.

It wasn't just Alfred's baby-blue eyes.

It wasn't just Alfred's beautiful smile.

It was Alfred as a whole. Alfred was the perfect reason to love Alfred.

* * *

 **A/N- Woo, second chapter up in a day! :D I should receive a medal or something for my awesome updating prowess displayed here! XD**

 **I hope it was alright! This chapter was mostly filler, I think. I just wanted to have Arthur not be a total uke, so I wanted to make him 'save' Alfred. And that's what happened XD For some reason Kiku became this awesome love expert... Idk why XD I tried to keep him in character! :D I think Kiku might've been watching too much shoujo anime XD**

 **Oh, and the Wit-Sharpening potion is actually studied in fourth grade! That's right, I did my research XD**

 **So, tell me what ya think! :D I think there'll only be one more chapter of this. I can't think of much else to write about XD**

 **Hasta la pasta! =U=**


	3. Chapter 3

A week later, and _everybody_ seemed to be under the assumption that Arthur and Alfred were dating. Everywhere he went, Arthur received comments like 'Nice one, Kirkland!', 'I didn't know dating was something you did!', and other statements like that. Each time, Arthur had had to explain that in fact, they _weren't_ dating, and they were simply going to the ball together, as good friends. However, no one seemed to believe him. Some nodded slowly, then walked off, but Arthur knew that they hadn't changed their minds. Some arched their eyebrows and gave him a knowing look, whereas others just outright laughed at him and told him that was the worst lie they ever heard.

Arthur never contradicted these people in front of Alfred, however. Truth be told, he didn't actually know whether they were dating or not. Arthur didn't think so, but Alfred might do. Arthur couldn't risk breaking Alfred's heart with a simple 'No we're not!'.

He walked down the stone steps, his bag filled with books from the library. Alfred had been spending time with Matthew this evening, Francis with the 'Bad Touch Trio' ( _lamest name EVER_ , Arthur thought), and Kiku with Ludwig and Feliciano. His automatic retreat had been the library, finding more books about jinxes, hexes, and curses. Madam Pince must think him a psycho, with all the books he took out. Over his four years at Hogwarts, about an eighth of his borrow list would be books for school. W _ell, reading about the Dark Arts is more interesting!_

Lost in thought, he suddenly crashed into something, and fell backwards. Or rather someone, for he heard cries of pain that weren't his own.

"Are you okay? Sorry about that." Arthur said, standing up and holding out a helping hand. The boy took it, and it took Arthur a while to register the face.

"Alfred? No, you're not Alfred..."

"I'm Matthew Williams." Matthew said, in his quiet voice. Arthur nodded his head, remembering.

"Ah yes! My apologies, Matthew! I didn't see you there." He said. Matthew shook his head dismissively, smiling, if a little wearily.

"It's okay. Are you going back to your common room?" He asked, and Arthur nodded.

"Same here. I just played a game of baseball with Alfred, and let's just say I'm never doing it again!" Matthew joked.

"What did the idiot do?"

"Oh, nothing much. Apart from throw the ball so hard it hit me in all kinds of places! I swear, he's far too strong!" Matthew moaned, rubbing his cheek, which was, Arthur saw, redder than the rest of his face.

"How the hell did he get so strong anyway?" Arthur laughed.

"Radioactive hamburgers?" Matthew suggested.

"Probably!" Arthur laughed. "Well, I have to go, it's nearly nine. See you later." Arthur made to walk off, but Matthew's cry of 'Wait!' stopped him.

"What?"

Matthew pushed his hair out of his strangely purple eyes, and adjusted his glasses.

"I just wanted to say thanks."

"For what?" Arthur asked, puzzled.

"For going out with Alfred." Matthew answered. Arthur opened his mouth to respond with his usual denial, but the words died in his throat as Matthew spoke on.

"You... You have no idea how long Alfred's loved you. He's wanted nothing more than to be yours since you recovered from petrification in second year. He was so scared during that time. I remember, he'd meet me at breakfast every morning with red eyes and dark circles. I think there were days when he didn't even _sleep_ , he was that worried for you. He thought you'd never wake up."

"When you walked up to us after being cured, Alfred's smile was the brightest it's ever been. I think he realised that the idea of letting go of you wasn't even fathomable. Since then, he's loved you. He mightn't have said it, but it was obvious to even the dimmest of people."

"Wasn't obvious to me." Arthur pointed out.

"But you're the object of affection. The object of affection _never_ sees it coming!" Matthew said, and laughed slightly at Arthur's blush.

"These past weeks his mind has been filled with nothing but _you_. Your name's actually going to drive me insane one day, with the amount of times it's been said! And last week, when you accepted, was the worst of it. He was over the blasted _moon_. You were more important than a hamburger _plus_ a shake, put it that way." Matthew grinned.

"Wow, he really loves me." Arthur chuckled.

"He does. He really does." Matthew's face was serious now. "He loves you more than anything. You are his world. So, thanks, Arthur Kirkland, for making Alfred's dream come true." Matthew smiled serenely, then turned on his heel, and bounded up the rest of the stairs. Arthur fidgeted awkwardly, but couldn't resist. He had to know.

"Stop!" Arthur cried out. Matthew turned round.

"Why me?" He blurted. Matthew's eyebrows rose a little. "Why does Alfred love _me_? I'm not the nicest to him. Sometimes I think I've actually been quite nasty. So... Why does he love me?"

Matthew smiled, a little twinkle in his eyes. "Because, you're Arthur. And Arthur is Alfred's definition of everything." And with that, Matthew left, leaving Arthur dithering on the staircase.

Arthur pondered what had just happened. One; Alfred had loved him since the end of second year. Two; Alfred was head over heels for him. And Three; Arthur felt guilty as hell for telling everybody that they weren't dating, when Alfred's love ran so deep that he had denied himself _sleep_ because Arthur had been petrified.

* * *

" _Serpens_." The door opened, and Arthur walked down the corridor and into the green-lit common room. He set his bag down with a sigh, extracted _Magick Moste Evile_ (it wasn't like he was going to use the spells; he just liked reading about them), and made to sit down in his favourite armchair. However, he stopped in his tracks, for Draco Malfoy was already sat in it.

Arthur scowled. He hated Malfoy. The guy was such a _prick_. Ever since first year they hadn't got on. At first, Malfoy had thought Arthur to be interesting and a good ally, due to his pureblood status, and his knowledge of the Dark Arts. He had been keen to make friends, and Arthur had accepted, if only because it wasn't wise to have hostilities with fellow house members. However, he soon found Malfoy to be rude, self-absorbed, and actually cruel. Malfoy had wanted Arthur to use one of his hexes on poor, unsuspecting Antonio, but Arthur had refused. He also refused to break off his friendships with various 'mudbloods' and 'blood-traitors' from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. This had led to disagreements and arguments, and before he knew it, they were enemies.

And that suited Arthur just fine.

He picked up his bag and turned in the direction of the stairs leading to the dorms, but was stopped by Malfoy's snide voice.

"Dating the mudblood, are you, Kirkland?"

Arthur turned round, his denial sitting on his tongue. It wouldn't come out. Arthur remembered Matthew's talk with him earlier, about how deep Alfred's love really went. Arthur felt a little ball of shame arise in his stomach at the thought that even after the talk, he still had the contradiction in his mind.

Jutting his chin, Arthur folded his arms and stood up straight, looking down at Malfoy.

"Yes, I am. What of it?" Arthur responded.

"Nothing much. Just thought that even _you_ had higher standards than mudbloods, gay boy." Malfoy scorned. Arthur's face flushed red in anger, and fire burned in his emerald eyes.

"Don't you _dare_ call him a mudblood, bastard." Arthur spat threateningly, resisting the urge to run across the room and punch Malfoy right in his stupid little face.

Malfoy scowled at the comment, folding his own arms. "I'll call him what I want, Kirkland."

"Just remember, Malfoy, that Alfred is a better wizard than you will ever be."

"Kirkland, this isn't the time to be cracking jokes. Mudbloods like Jones shouldn't even be in this school, where magic reigns supreme. Jones belongs in some filthy little muggle school-"

Without thinking, Arthur reacted. Like lightning, he pulled out his wand and whipped it in a decisive motion, feeling a sort of grim satisfaction when Malfoy recoiled in pain, his cheek swelling up due to the Stinging Jinx.

"Y'know," Arthur said lazily, twirling his wand in his hands, hiding the feeling of white-hot rage, "Alfred's able to protect himself from my non-verbal spells. Shape up Malfoy, your skills are that of a pathetic pureblood." Arthur smirked evilly, turning on his heel.

"You're a pureblood too, Kirkland." Malfoy muttered, brushing Pansy's helping hand away.

"True. But I'm not a _pathetic_ pureblood, am I?" Arthur pointed out.

"You wish, Kirkland. I wonder how Jones even managed to feel anything for you. Or maybe you just fed him a love potion? Can't see why you would, but consorting with filth has always been your number one priority." Malfoy taunted, his grey eyes gleaming from beneath the swelling. Arthur glared at him, keeping his wand hand firmly against his thigh. He already lashed out. A Stinging Jinx was fine. The Cruciatus Curse was pushing it, though the thought of Malfoy writhing in agony calmed Arthur down a little.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Malfoy." He spat.

A little.

"As if I'd listen to a blood-traitor." Malfoy responded coolly, his cronies laughing mirthfully. Arthur tried to count to ten, but he couldn't stand all these slurs against Alfred. He had always been told he had anger issues, anyway.

Arthur strode towards the bastard purposefully and pulled Malfoy up by his collar, yanking him out of his seat with a yelp. Arthur was taller than Malfoy, so it was satisfying to see the stuck-up boy be forced to look up at him.

"You _will_ listen to me, bastard. Alfred's not a mudblood." Arthur spat the word in contempt. "He's a _muggle-born_ , and worth more than a million of you. Don't you _dare_ badmouth my boyfriend again, or I swear I'll crucio you." Arthur threatened darkly, letting Malfoy drop as he made his way to the staircase once again. He paused just outside it, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh, and I have to say, a 'mudblood' is a better date than trash." Arthur said, with a pointed look towards Pansy, who looked positively outraged. With a laugh, Arthur ran down the staircase, and into his dorm.

He looked around, noting Ludwig's empty bed. _Ludwig must be in Gilbert's dorm, then._ He laid down on his bed, his blood finally simmering down, though the anger was still there. Alfred's beaming face swam to the front of his mind; pure and whole. Arthur was confused. How could someone actively want to break it? How could someone pour scorn on a person who was better than them in every way possible?

Arthur remembered what he had said to Malfoy, in the heat of the moment. ' _Don't you dare badmouth my boyfriend again'_. He blushed, hiding his face in his pillow from no one in particular. He had just called Alfred his boyfriend. Something he had been denying for a week. Could this reflect what he really wanted? Arthur imagined holding Alfred's hand as they walked around Hogwarts, going on dates with him to Hogsmeade, even, dare he say it, kissing him?

Arthur found he quite liked the idea.

"Flying Mint Bunny," Arthur whispered, stroking his green cat as it crawled onto his lap, staring intently at the dark blush on Arthur's face.

"Flying Mint Bunny, I think I'm in love."

* * *

 **A/N- Hey, long time no see! :D Please don't kill me .-.**

 **This chapter wasn't even meant to exist, but oh well XD I didn't want to just skip straight ahead to the ball, 'cause it seemed like too big a timeskip, and stuff probably happened in between.**

 **Also, the story for Flying Mint Bunny is this:**

 **-Arthur bought a black cat, but didn't know what to name her. Called her 'Kitty' for a while.**

 **-He found a spell to turn things different colours, and used Kitty to see if he could change the colour of animals too.**

 **-He turned Kitty mint green.**

 **-Alfred comes waltzing in just as Kitty jumps down from the cupboard, and he thinks that Kitty's a 'Flying Mint Bunny'.**

 **-And the name stuck.**

 **I dunno XD Random origin story XD**

 **Well, leave a review! :D They're always appreciated! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur was sitting in a corner of the corridor, reading _Secrets of the Darkest Art_. He figured that he should really get out of the corner and go sit in the library or somewhere that wasn't a dingy little crevice, but really, why would he? He didn't particularly want to sit in the library, where that nosy Madam Pince would most definitely screech at him for writing in a book, the common room held His Royal Brattiness Draco Malfoy, and... He had nowhere else to go. Apart from a corner. So that's where he was. In a corner. He was sure he looked odd to the students infrequently passing by, but oh well. This corner was alright.

"Hey, Artie!"

The blonde Brit cried out in shock as a boy rudely shattered the silence and came bounding up to him. Furthermore, he suddenly found himself with an extremely large chocolate bar in his hands, presumably thrust upon him by this boy (which turned out to be none other than Alfred), who was standing in from of him, happily munching on his own slab of chocolate, crumbs falling into Arthur's lap.

"Jeez, I've been looking _everywhere_ for you! I tried the Great Hall, then the library, then I tried to sneak into your common room but failed, then I tried the bathrooms, and I only found you 'cause Padma and Lavender were giggling about Kirkland sitting in the corner next to the broken girls' bathroom, so I ran over here, and why _are_ you here?" Alfred babbled without scarcely drawing breath. He took another bite, and more chocolate fell onto Arthur, and he glowered, putting down his book and quill.

"Alfred, if you're going to devour chocolate close to me, the least you could do is refrain from spraying it everywhere." He muttered in disgust, sweeping the residue off him. Alfred merely shrugged, grinning.

"I'll try." Was what he said, but with a tone that clearly conveyed the fact that Alfred did not give a damn. Narrowing his eyes and scowling, Arthur turned his attention to the chocolate bar given to him, and then turned back to Alfred with a questioning look. The bar didn't seem to come from Honeydukes or from any wizarding brand he knew of (and he knew most of them), so he presumed it to be a muggle brand. Hershey's, apparently.

"Mo'n'da'shen'tf'r'oo." Alfred garbled, his mouth practically stuffed to the brim.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I don't understand stupid." Arthur said coolly, and Alfred swallowed.

"I _said_ , Mom and Dad sent it for you. It's nice. Hershey's is the best chocolate brand in America, so _obviously_ it's the best in the world!" Explained Alfred, stuffing his wrapper in his pocket (which seemed to be rather full with wrappers). Arthur raised his eyebrows.

"Why?"

"Well, America is the best _country_ in the world, so it only stands to reason that-"

" _I'm not talking about that_! I know you think of America as the Garden of Eden-"

"'Cause it is."

"BUT, I was asking _why your parents sent me chocolate_!" Arthur finally got out, rolling his eyes as Alfred's mouth became a big 'O' of understanding. God, for all his boasting of how he was the hero, he could be really dense.

"Then why didn't you say so?" Alfred laughed, cutting off Arthur's angry splutter, "I told my mom and dad I was taking you to the Yule Ball, and they sent you chocolate. Apparently they were hoping I'd take you, ever since they heard that there was going to be a ball."

Arthur blinked, dumbfounded. So... Did Alfred's parents _want_ them to be together? Well, that was certainly a strange revelation. He never thought _he'd_ be the 'parent's choice'. It was kind of a nice feeling, actually.

"They really like you, y'know. You're pretty much that kid who the family never stops asking about. Y'know, stuff like 'Are you still friends with Arthur?', 'Do you want to invite Arthur over?', 'How is Arthur doing these days?'," Alfred went on, chuckling.

"Seriously?" Arthur replied. "I didn't realise I was such a model kid."

"I didn't either, but parents think strange, don't they? I have this feeling that they want you as a second son..." Alfred mused, and Arthur felt his face burn. Second son. Son-in-law. Marriage. To Alfred. Arthur Jones. Hm. He liked that. It sounded nice. And friendly. And warm.

"Hey, Earth to Artie!"

Arthur was jolted out of his marriage reverie ( _never going there again, I liked it too much_ , he thought) and was staring blankly into round blue eyes, which crinkled with amusement.

"You look like you've just seen a really hot ghost." He teased. Arthur focused in on the situation, registered Alfred's words, then stared at him in confusion.

"A... Really hot... _Ghost_?"

"Well, yeah, 'cause your eyes were wide like you'd just seen a ghost, but you were really red, like the ghost had been the hottest thing on no legs." Alfred explained, chortling at his own joke. Arthur blinked, then understood. Oh. Alfred had gone into his muggle-world again.

"Alfred, ghosts are normal in the wizarding world, remember?" Arthur reminded with an exasperated sigh which turned into a yelp as, speak of the devil, a ghost flitted through him, leaving him chilly.

"Oh yeah..." Alfred said, grinning sheepishly. "Muggle phrases are hard to let go of, you know?"

"Not really, considering I've only known wizarding idioms." Arthur answered, smiling in spite of himself. Really, he knew no other person who forgot they were magical. Alfred was seriously a precious idiot.

"Anyway, forgetting the topic of majorly-hot ghosts, what I asked you when you were spacing out was," He did a little spin then flashed a winning smile, and you could practically see a twinkle at the corner of his mouth, "What do your parents think of me?"

Arthur blanched.

His fingers curled around the chocolate bar, clenching it.

His gaze fell from Alfred's earnest face, hiding the panic in them.

"Artie?" Alfred's voice was slightly muffled, as if there was glass between them.

He couldn't do it.

He couldn't hurt Alfred like that.

Alfred's family was full of kind people.

He couldn't open Alfred to the world of imperfect families.

He couldn't tell Alfred about how much the Kirkland family loathed him.

"Arthur!"

"My parents think you're fine. Nothing special. Sorry." He attempted a smile, or a smirk, whatever worked. But all it ended up being was a grimace. "I guess being amazing at Quidditch doesn't warrant admiration from the Kirklands."

"You're lying."

Arthur flinched.

He turned his head and raised an eyebrow at Alfred.

"Seriously?" He laughed, attempting to 'do an Alfred' and make the atmosphere lighter. But it seemed Alfred was immune to his own tricks, and he held Arthur's gaze carefully through his rectangular glasses. He sank down to join Arthur in his corner.

"Please, Artie. You may think I'm stupid, but I can tell when you're hiding something. I can tell when you're sad." Alfred said, his voice a little quieter than normal. Arthur let out a short laugh. Alfred couldn't read the atmosphere to save his life, and yet here he was, sussing out Arthur's emotions like a pro. This was at the bottom of his 'What I Expect Will Happen During My Lifetime' list, for sure.

"Artie. What's the matter?" Alfred asked softly. Arthur hung his head, avoiding Alfred's gaze. He didn't want to say anything. It was too close a topic, too personal. He couldn't just _let Alfred know_. It hurt too much. It hurt like hell.

"Nothing's the matter. Apart from the fact that you're invading my personal space." Diversion tactics. They'd work. Alfred was an easily distracted boy.

"I've sat on the same chair as you before, I don't think this matters." He pointed out. "But seriously, Artie, just tell me. I don't want you upset."

It seemed Alfred wasn't to be deterred.

Sighing, Arthur replied quietly, "And what on Earth could you do to make the problem go away? Bloody nothing, that's what."

"I'd do whatever I could. I'll always do whatever I can to make you happy. You have my word."

Arthur slowly tilted his head up, and his viridescent eyes locked with Alfred's azure ones. Alfred's eyes showed nothing but care and love, and Arthur realised that if he didn't tell Alfred, he'd tell nobody, and his predicament would slowly eat him alive, alone. Maybe Alfred would be able to prevent it. Maybe.

He sighed in resignation, now looking at the chocolate in his lap. What a nice gesture. Simply because he had said yes.

"You do believe me, don't you?" Alfred. Pure, wonderful Alfred. Really, what else could he even ask for? The best thing in the universe had already willingly handed itself over to him.

"Yes." Arthur whispered, and steeled himself. It was now, or never.

"Ever since my first year at Hogwarts, my own parents have made summers the worst times ever." Arthur revealed, his voice carefully deadpanned so as not to reveal any of the emotional turmoil bubbling inside of him. He waited for Alfred to say something, but there was merely silence. He was waiting for Arthur to go on. So he swallowed, and continued.

"My family... They're pretty much the equivalent of the Malfoys. Rich, socially superior, and evil. They were Death Eaters, Alfred. My parents were Death Eaters. Even after the Dark Lord's fall, they held onto their ways, although they outwardly renounced him. It was actually quite darkly funny sometimes. They'd be having tea with Ministry officials in a room full of the darkest artefacts, and they were never found out." Arthur chuckled lowly. "They love fooling the Ministry, my parents." He heaved a reminiscent sigh. However evil his parents were, the laughs that they had after the tea parties finished were pure gold.

"I was brought up in this dark household, and I grew up learning the ways of Dark wizards. I was taught that 'mudbloods' were nothing but filth and garbage, not worthy of my attention." He felt Alfred tense next to him, and Arthur felt a rush of sympathy. Alfred had unfortunately gotten more than his fair share of 'mudblood' insults, and to learn that his best friend was taught to partake in this must have been hard. But nevertheless, he said nothing, silently telling Arthur that it was alright, he should continue.

"I came to Hogwarts with this mindset. I was to be in the noble house Slytherin, and was not to consort with any 'mudblood' or 'blood traitor'. They were simply disgusting things at the bottom on my shoe, annoying and to be discarded of immediately. In essence, I came to Hogwarts with the mindset of Draco Malfoy."

"So how come you're not like that now?" Alfred asked, both softly and curiously. Arthur smirked ruefully, lowly laughing. This was going to sound _so_ clichéd, and yet, it was the truth. He flicked his head to the side and let his eyes meet with Alfred's, amusement bright in them.

"It's so stupidly simple." Would he ever stop marvelling at those big blue eyes, trained on Arthur and giving him the courtesy of having undivided attention?

"I met you."

Arthur let the words sink in. He watched as Alfred went from normal to dusty pink in less than five seconds, and cleared his throat loudly, trying his best to ignore the light blush.

"Wh-What d'ya mean?" He questioned hastily.

"Do you remember the first words I said to you?" Arthur asked. He knew Alfred would. The gryffindor didn't remember much, but sure enough, Alfred nodded.

" _Get out of my way, worthless... Idiot._ " Alfred recited in a very fake British accent, putting the pause in the right place. Arthur nodded.

"And there you have it." He said simply.

"...Have what?"

"I was going to call you a worthless mudblood. But when I actually got a look at you, I just... Couldn't." Arthur shook his head. God, he had made a vow to himself that Alfred would never know about this, but it seemed that the vow was now broken. Everything was coming out, and if Arthur wanted to stop it, he couldn't. The words that he had kept to himself for four years were flowing out as easily as liquid, and he knew that they wouldn't stop. He realised that he _needed_ to talk about this, and therefore his own self wouldn't let him stop. "You looked too innocently cheery to be called a mudblood. I found that for some reason, I'd never forgive myself, or anyone else, for calling you something so cruel." Arthur elaborated, now slightly erubescent as well. Why, oh why did _Alfred_ have to be the reason for Arthur's change?

"So that's why you randomly punched Malfoy when he called me that." Alfred breathed, realisation just striking him. "I always wondered why you did that. I mean, we weren't even friends then."

"I just saw your face fall and I... I couldn't take it. I wasn't your friend, but I was your classfellow, and I did see you quite a lot. You were always incessantly energetic and happy, and it should have irritated me. I mean, it did - it _does_ \- but an annoyingly-cheery Alfred was better than an upset Alfred; an Alfred upset because of slurs I was brought up to make. I suppose hitting Malfoy was my turning point. I also suppose it was then that... That I made the decision that _no one_ has the right to hurt you, and I'd break their fucking necks if they tried." Arthur snarled at the burning memory of two days ago, in the common room with Malfoy. Alfred was quiet for a moment, and Arthur presumed he was taking all this in. It must have been quite the revelation; sarcastic, critical Arthur was saved from the cruel traditions of the Kirkland family by the dorky self-proclaimed hero sitting next to him.

"That's sweet and all, and I really appreciate it, Artie, but I think we were talking about your problem?" Alfred reminded. Arthur scowled down at his hands. Even _that_ didn't deter Alfred. God, he hated this topic. But Alfred wasn't going to relent, so he went on. It wasn't as if it was hard now, anyway.

"So after meeting you, I changed. I mean, I still love the Dark Arts, but I don't plan to use them on innocents. I stopped referring to muggle-borns as mudbloods though, and I don't even believe in blood-traitors anymore. I made friends in those of statuses other than pureblood, and ditched the friends whose aspirations were probably to become future Death Eaters."

"Needless to say, when I came home in the summer and told my parents that I had renounced their ways, they were furious. They couldn't believe it, really. I had always been the model pureblood. They asked me why, but I couldn't tell them. I don't actually know how they would've interfered if I had told them it was because of a single stupid muggle-born."

Arthur grimaced, feeling his eyes become hot. The memory of that first night back home still hurt him terribly; he had been yelled at and insulted by his own family, who had loved him dearly for years, just for being good. The event had shaken him; that was the day he realised that his family didn't love him like a family should; they simply loved the fact that he had been looking like a worthy heir to the Kirkland name. They didn't love Arthur Kirkland. They loved Arthur Kirkland's value.

"They found out anyway, after a whole month of carefully not mentioning you at all." Arthur continued. His hands were clenched into fists now, his blunt fingernails pressing into his skin, probably leaving angry red crescents. "They read your letter. Managed to deduce that you're a muggle-born." Blood oozed out of the crescent slits left by his nails. He muttered bitterly, "They burnt it. Ripped it up and tossed it into the fire. Hence you got no letter back from me. I didn't know your address."

"Hang on," Alfred interrupted. "You said that you couldn't be bothered replying."

"I lied." Arthur said curtly. "I decided that having you whine and whinge at me was better than telling you the truth."

"But don't you _see_?!" Alfred blurted out suddenly, grabbing Arthur by the shoulders and forcing him to face the taller blonde. "If you had told me, I could've done something sooner! I could've helped you, I could've made you happier, I could've done _something_!"

"Alfred, like I said, what the hell could you _possibly_ do? Write to my parents saying ' _PLEASE_ let Artie be my best friend!'?" Arthur said sardonically.

"I could've told _my_ parents, or maybe a Howler, or _something_! For God's sake Artie, _stop being so damn stubborn_!" Alfred yelled, his voice filled with emotion, and then pulled a startled Arthur into his strong arms, one hand just below his shoulder blades, and the other on the middle of his back. His chin rested on the American's shoulder, and it was all he could do to stop himself from burying his face in the crook of his neck, letting go of his pride. He resigned himself to simply closing his eyes, finding comfort in the warmth and care of Alfred's protective embrace. His home life was a wreck; a wreck he had to return to every summer. But if Alfred was here, at Hogwarts, with his friendly grin and infectious laugh, then he could endure those visits back to the Kirkland Mansion.

Alfred pulled away, and Arthur felt cold again. He avoided Alfred's eyes and instead stared down at his lap, appearing intensely interested in playing around with his fingers. He wouldn't ever admit to anyone but himself that Alfred's embrace was one of the best things he'd ever felt, and he'd never tire of the feel. It made him feel like everything was okay. That every aspect of his life was sunshine and rainbows.

"Artie... I don't get it." Alfred spoke, breaking the silence.

"Get what?" Arthur replied.

"You've been to my house before. Every summer you come round. How?"

Arthur grinned. "I made portkeys. I couldn't stay in the house, so I portkeyed to your house every summer. I knew you wouldn't mind."

"I bet your parents didn't like that."

"They don't. But it's pretty hard to stop me making portkeys. I mean, they could've taken my wand, but that's like turning me into a Squib, and no 'self-respecting' family wants a Squib, it seems." Arthur said, grimacing. There was silence for a couple of minutes, each student absorbed in their own thoughts.

"... I think I hate your family. Sorry, dude." Alfred said finally, barely a hint of sheepishness in his voice. Arthur shrugged.

"So do I. And I know that the feeling's reciprocated." He said simply, nonchalantly.

"So there you have it. The very reason that my parents don't like you, and by extension the reason I haven't told them that I'm going with you to the Ball." Said Arthur, a note of finality in his voice. He didn't want to talk about this anymore. It was done.

But, to Arthur's dismay, it seemed Alfred wasn't having it. _Stupid caring git._

The American started frantically rummaging in his pockets and other nooks and crannies of his clothes for something or the other, muttering to himself as he did so. A piece of parchment was finally pulled out, and Alfred gave a happy gasp when he saw it. Then he thrust it into Arthur's hands.

"Write to your parents." Alfred instructed, a wide smirk upon his face. "Tell them you're taking Alfred F. Jones, your muggle-born friend, to the Yule Ball, a historical magical tradition. _That'll_ give them a hissy fit! They can't even tell you off or hurt you; you're at Hogwarts!"

Arthur's virescent eyes dilated, and he shook his head frantically, wrapping his arms around himself tightly. He couldn't do that. Tell his parents? No. No no no. Stupid idea. Summers would be even more nightmarish, and he couldn't deal with that. _Failure_ and _dishonour_ and _shame_ reverberated off the walls of his mind and he couldn't shut it out, couldn't get rid of it, but he needed to, he _really needed to_ , for fuck's sake he could hear his parents' mocking scorns as easily as if they were there, and that fact was horrifying, and-

"Arthur."

Alfred's warm hands were covering his own, encasing them in tenderness. He was brought out of his self-destructive thought process, and his vision became clearer, more focused.

"Writing to them like this will make you feel better. It's in all the movies and everything; telling the ones who bring you down that you're doing the very thing that they wouldn't want you to do is seriously one of the best things you could do! So, write. I'll help, if you want." Alfred insisted, his eyes earnestly shining like the stars in the sky. Arthur closed his eyes, scoffing. Really, how could he even say no to such enthusiasm? He'd regret this decision for the rest of his life. _But maybe, just maybe, Alfred's right..._

So he nodded. "I'll do it."

"That's the spirit!" Alfred said encouragingly, his face breaking into a wide smile.

"If this backfires, I'm blaming you. No Chocolate Frogs at Christmas." Arthur joked.

"Hey, no fair!" Alfred pouted, putting his hands on his hips crossly. Arthur merely laughed, then turned to the parchment and quill in his hands. He had to write it now, when the resolve was still strong.

 _Dear Mother and Father,_ Arthur scribed, the quill scratching being the only sound he could hear. Then he faltered. What was he supposed to write? He hadn't written a letter to his parents since the start of his second year. Granted, this wasn't an ordinary letter, but _still_.

"I'm happy to say that I'm taking the stunningly-handsome hero Alfred F. Jones to the Yule Ball. And yeah, he's a muggle-born, so SUCK IT LOSERS!" Alfred dictated proudly.

"I can't send something like that to my parents!" Arthur yelled, though he couldn't help thinking of their rather humourous expressions if he let Alfred write. However, he didn't, so he mulled over what to write for a little longer, then finally put quill to parchment. His clammy hand shook as he wrote the words, but his writing was legible and looked mostly normal, if a bit more wobbly.

 _How are you? It's been a while since I have written. I am fine, as is Flying Mint Bunny. I'm writing to tell you about my plans for the upcoming Yule Ball, an event which you obviously know all about. First of all, I've changed those lime-green robes you gave me to dark, bottle green. Lime-green is just hideous._

"When did you change them?" Alfred asked. "'Cause you told me, like, a week ago, that they were lime-green..."

"It was the day you asked me, when I realised that I was actually going to the Ball. I didn't care about their colour before, as I intended to skip it. But seeing as how I _am_ going, I needed to do something about the terrible colour choice." Arthur explained. "You know what, my parents probably picked the worst colour for dress robes on purpose..."

 _I've also found someone to take to the Ball._ He was about to write 'date', but he felt himself get embarrassed at the thought. _He's a friend of mine. Alfred F. Jones. You know him. He's the muggle-born I portkey to every summer._

"... What else?" Arthur asked. Alfred merely shrugged.

"I say keep it small. It shows that you're only interested in annoying them!" Alfred suggested.

"I suppose I'll do that, then."

 _I hope you have a good Christmas._

 _Arthur._

He sank in relief after dotting the last dot. He had done it. He had written the letter.

"Now we need to post it!" Alfred declared, pulling Arthur up by the hand and running with him all the way to the Owlery.

"We'll use Freedom." Alfred decided once they got there, Arthur panting as he climbed the last few stairs.

"Where the hell do you get all that energy?!" Arthur wheezed.

"It came as a freebie when I was born." Alfred laughed, then started whistling for his owl which gave a screeching hoot as it landed on Alfred's shoulder.

"Hey there, buddy!" Alfred greeted, scratching the majestic eagle owl on the neck. Freedom gave a happy hoot in return. "I need you to post this for me, okay?" He held up Arthur's brief letter for Freedom to take in his beak. "It's for Artie's parents. You know where they live, don't ya dude?"

Freedom hooted once again, nipped Alfred's finger playfully, then set off through the large, circular window, away from Hogwarts and to the Kirkland Mansion.

Arthur felt weak at the knees.

He had done it.

"You alright, dude? You look a little shaky." Alfred commented, stuffing his hands in his pockets and grinning. Arthur stared at Alfred through his lashes.

This wanker.

This stupid, idiotic wanker had helped him lift a huge weight within his chest. Alfred, with his cheery grin and beautiful blue eyes had aided him in dispelling his demons. Alfred, with his buoyant and dynamic personality had made sure he felt better about life as a whole. All with a caring smile.

God, he had fallen hard.

"Artie, you wanna-"

Whatever he was going to say, he was cut off as Arthur ran at Alfred and wrapped his arms around him tightly, needily. The shorter blonde buried his face in the crook of the American's shoulder, and breathed in Alfred's familiar scent. He smelt of coffee, cocoa, and fizzy drinks. Three jarring fragrances, but mixing perfectly to create a scent that Arthur couldn't live without. He smiled contently when Alfred reciprocated his hug enthusiastically.

"Thank you." Arthur whispered into Alfred's neck, just loud enough for him to hear. Alfred placed his hand on Arthur's head and gently ran his fingers through the Brit's hair, and Arthur relaxed at the touch. He needn't worry about anything at home. He had Alfred.

"No problem, Artie."

And really, he couldn't ask for anything, or anyone, better.

* * *

 **A/N- Have some more filler! Oh, you'd like some actual plot with that? Sorry, we've run out. A new shipment will be coming in sometime in the future!**

 **As for when, I have no idea.**

 **Y'know, this story wasn't meant to exceed three chapters. And look. FML.**

 **So, I have no idea why the hell I wrote this. I didn't need to. I suppose it gives some not-really-needed backstory... And we can't have one of MY stories being 100% happy! Pfft, the idea is laughable!**

 **I've written the Yule Ball chapter about three times, each version slightly different. Only thing is, they were all written on my phone, and... My phone's pretty broken. So I'm internally screaming right now =n= Luckily, I remember the gist of it XP**

 **Oh, and about the lime-green robes. I searched up the colour, and I thought 'Why the hell did I write _lime-green_?!' So I quickly rectified that wardrobe malfunction here XD**

 **On a side note, I went to see the Cursed Child the other day! :D And let me tell you, it is MORE THAN PHENOMENAL. And the actors knew it; they came for three curtain calls XD Everything about it is brilliant; you can't appreciate it fully with merely the script. But, uhm, if you haven't got tickets already, good luck getting some for like, soon. You'll be able to see it in 2018 at the earliest!**

 **Well, that's all from me. Hasta la pasta! :D**


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur's eyes flew open. _It's Christmas!_

He scrambled to get out of the blankets and clamoured to the foot of his bed, where there lay a fair-sized pile of brightly-wrapped presents. Ludwig, Ivan, and Yao were already opening their presents, and Malfoy and his cronies were thankfully asleep, so he'd be able to open his presents in peace. First up was a rather thick rectangular package which turned out to be from Francis. He tore open the pink wrapping to find out that Francis had sent him a book. A book named _Simple Cookery for Simple People_.

"Francis, I'm going to fucking _kill_ you." Arthur growled. He knew how to cook perfectly, thank you very much!

"It's a good idea, though." Yao commented, peering over Arthur's shoulder. "Last time I ate something of yours I had to go to the hospital wing, aru..."

" _Excuse me_ , but that's not my fault! Unlucky coincidence." Arthur shot back stubbornly. Yao merely shrugged, and Arthur turned to his next present. This present was much thinner than the other, and Arthur found that it was a brand new set of the finest quills from Matthew. He grinned happily; he had needed some new quills, and this was pretty much the exact set he had seen and wanted in _Amanuensis Quills_. He especially loved the peacock one; the bottle green blended beautifully with the sapphire blue, and he couldn't wait to test it out. The quill would write beautifully, he just knew it.

Next, he picked up a parcel covered in modest white wrapping paper, and opened it to find the latest volume of his favourite manga series from Kiku. _I knew he'd pull through! Good one, Kiku_ _!_ He had been waiting for this one for _ages_. He would've bought it himself, but he had no idea how or where to buy manga from. And he kept forgetting to ask.

This left two presents now, both wrapped in gaudy red Christmas wrapping and both bearing the words ' _FROM THE HERO, ALFRED F. JONES HIMSELF_ ' scrawled in ink. Arthur snorted then set to work opening one of the presents. This one was the same shape as the other, but a little narrower. Alfred's face broke out into a smile; Alfred had given him the next book of his favourite muggle series, released just last month. He had been hankering to read this too, but just like the manga, he had no idea where to get it. Seriously, what would he do without those two and their connections to the muggle world?

The next present was almost definitely another book. Eagerly, he ripped up the wrapping and held _The Darkest Magic And How To Wield It_ up in jubilance. A little squee of delight escaped him, and he fervently flipped through the pages. All those _spells_ , so _dark_ , so _twisted_ , so _magnificent_! How to cut off a person's oxygen, how to drain a person's blood, how to psychologically torture somebody until they lost the desire to live, _it was all in there_!

"Should I be worried that you look so happy?" Ludwig said, half-seriously.

"It's not as if I'm going to use them. They're just so wonderful to learn about, is all." Arthur replied, then grinned at his stack of presents. Everyone had pulled through splendidly. Well, everyone except his parents, who, as usual, hadn't sent anything, but he put that to the back of his mind. Right now, as he looked at his stack of presents and everyone else's happy faces, he couldn't care less. Really, Christmas was probably the best holiday in existence.

* * *

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod- _ARTIE_!"

A euphoric Alfred tackled him to the ground of the Great Hall, laughing joyously and holding something long and hard against Arthur's back. He gasped for air as the wind was knocked out of him, and pushed against Alfred slightly until he could breathe and see him properly. His dirty blonde hair was wild and unbrushed, and his sapphire eyes were large and exuberant, stars shining within them.

"You quite alright?" Arthur chuckled. Somehow, he didn't particularly feel like yelling at Alfred at this moment of time. Probably something to do with the Christmas merriness.

" _You got me a_ _FIREBOLT_! _A REAL FIREBOLT, DUDE_!" Alfred exclaimed ecstatically, pulling out an arm and taking out the state-of-the-art broomstick from behind Arthur's back. "It's all sleek and shiny and awesome and _DUDE_! You so pulled through!"

Arthur smiled affectionately, ruffling the gryffindor's hair and making it even more untidy. "I presume you like it, then?"

"Artie, I freaking _love it_! A Firebolt... My very own Firebolt! Harry said it was really cool to fly on, and seeing as how his Firebolt won him the first task, I'm gonna trust him on that one. My own Firebolt..." Alfred rambled, going into a daydream. Then he snapped out of it and turned to Arthur again, eager.

"Hey hey hey, did you like _my_ presents?" He asked excitedly. Arthur nodded happily.

"Of course I did, you wanker! Seriously, how could I not, 'cause goddamn, I needed those books!" Arthur replied, grinning broadly, and Alfred's face beamed radiantly.

"Hah, I knew you would! Mom and Dad sent over the book - I think it was called _Fires of Hell_ -"

"Heaven." Arthur corrected.

"Yeah, that, and I ordered the dark magic book from Borgin and Burke's last month, when it came out. I knew you'd like them!" Alfred said gleefully, and hugged Arthur joyfully. Arthur, intoxicated by Alfred's laugh and the Christmas euphoria, hugged him back tightly.

"Are you going to get up off ze floor, or will I 'ave to kick _les amoreux_ to ze side myself, hm?"

Arthur started as Francis peered down at the two, amusement bright in his eyes. His face burned with embarrassment, and he coughed loudly.

"Ah, yes, we'll get up, sorry..." He was sure he was redder than the gryffindor quidditch robes as he disentangled himself from Alfred and stood up hastily and sorted out his now rather messy hair. He suddenly realised that about three quarters of the students in the Hall were staring at them, most with faces filled with humour. Even the professors were looking at them, and Arthur seriously felt like crawling into a hole and never getting out.

"It's Christmas, so stop worrying!" Alfred said, messing up Arthur's hair again and grinning from ear to ear.

"Alfie 'as a point. If zere's any day to hug somebody on the floor, it's _Noël_." Francis added. "Just don't block the path, _d'accord_?"

Arthur shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "It's time to sit down, anyway. I'm hungry."

The three of them sat down together at the Gryffindor table (nobody was paying attention to the house system) for breakfast, and soon enough they were joined by Matthew, who was also smiling quite broadly. _Christmas is seriously one magical holiday..._

"Hey guys, merry Christmas! Oooh, pancakes and syrup, I sure hope it's maple..." He instantly began devouring the pancakes.

"Is it maple?"

"Heck yeah." Matthew answered happily through a mouthful. Francis chuckled.

"Really, you can be just like Alfred." He said. Matthew stuck his tongue out and gestured at Alfred with a syrup-covered fork.

"I am _not_ like Alfred over there." The Canadian responded, sucking on his fork afterwards.

"Yeah, he's so not like me!" Alfred agreed. "I'm like, fifty times more awesome! Fifty 'cause there are fifty states in America." Alfred added, answering the question no one asked.

"Will you _ever_ shut up about America?" Arthur asked, mild irritation in his voice. "If you like America so much you should've gone to Ilvermorny..."

"One, I'll never shut up about the best, freest country in the world, and two, Hogwarts has Dumbledore, and three, we moved to England when I was ten, so I couldn't have gone to Ilvermorny anyway." Alfred said. "Now hurry up and finish eating, 'cause we've got to enjoy Christmas!"

"Hey, _some_ of us only just started breakfast!" Matthew argued.

"That's your own fault, Mattie! Come _on_ , we have to go onto the Quidditch pitch and fly!" Alfred said excitedly, jumping up and down in his seat. "I wanna test out my new Firebolt!"

* * *

"Alfred, did it once cross your mind that Francis and I don't _want_ to fly?" Arthur muttered, his arms crossed tightly and his Slytherin scarf fluttering behind him in the winter wind. They were on the Quidditch pitch, and the North American boys were holding their broomsticks like they knew what they were doing. Which they did.

"Don't be stupid, Artie, of course you want to fly!" Alfred laughed, clapping Arthur and Francis on the back, making them stumble in the snow.

"I _can't_ fly!" Arthur reminded impatiently.

"If you care to remember, I fell off my broom from seventy metres in the air!" Francis recalled, absentmindedly rubbing his arm as he did so. Alfred simply laughed harder.

"Well, that's 'cause you're an idiot, but don't worry, we'll be helping you out! Francis, you'll be on Mattie's broom," Matthew gave a small, encouraging wave, and Francis looked slightly pacified, "And Artie, you'll be with me on the Firebolt! Lucky you!"

"Fuck this, I'm not riding a broom." Arthur insisted stubbornly. "I'll watch you whiz around like an eagle from the spectator's stand. See you." He made to leave but was yanked back by his scarf, which was in Alfred's strong grasp.

"Oh no you don't! You are riding with me, and you're gonna like it!" He commanded, a mischievous grin on his face. "You'll be safe, you'll be fine, there's nothing to worry about!"

He looked at Arthur with those big blue eyes that Arthur couldn't stop admiring, and with a reluctant sigh he walked back to Alfred and the broom, and the American's grin grew wider.

"I knew you'd come round sooner or later, Artie!" He sang happily.

"Fuck you." The shorter of the two muttered, and inexpertly swung a leg over the Firebolt, almost bringing both himself and it crashing to the ground. And they weren't even in the air yet.

"Er, Artie, I kinda wanna ride the broom first. You'll have to slide back." Alfred pointed out, and Arthur obliged, shuffling backwards to give Alfred enough space at the front of the broom. He mounted the broom swiftly and skilfully, and Arthur chuckled under his breath. Two complete opposites of the spectrum were sitting on the same broom. It could only lead to disaster, and yet Arthur was going along with it. _Stupid Alfred_.

"You positioned alright?" Alfred asked, swivelling his head round to check on the Brit.

" _No_ , the bloody thing is a pain to sit on! Surely it hurts you too?" Arthur complained, trying to adjust himself, but to no avail.

"Um, no." Alfred answered confusedly, and hopped off his broom just as consummately as he had gotten on, and scrutinised Arthur's position. For a moment he looked perplexed, and did an entire three-hundred-and-sixty inspection of the slytherin, then his eyes gleamed as he quickly began to push a bewildered Arthur this way and that, then stood back to admire his handiwork.

"Does it hurt now?" He questioned.

"No." Arthur answered, rather amazed. He had been able to sort out Arthur just by looking at him... _You can go around thinking he's the dopiest idiot you've ever met, and then he'll do something like that and just utterly surprise you..._

"There's the smile I'm looking for! I knew you'd enjoy flying!" Alfred said happily and re-mounted the broom. "You ready?"

"I suppose." Arthur muttered.

"Hold on tight, this is the fastest broom in the world!" Alfred instructed, barely containing the excitement in his voice. Arthur gulped and encircled Alfred's waist with his arms, too scared to think about getting embarrassed. Alfred positioned himself, took a breath-

And they were off.

" _HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIIIIIIIIII_ -" Arthur screamed as they flew up and up and up with the wind roaring past Arthur's ears and his coat flowing out behind him and the pitch below him becoming smaller and smaller and he gripped Alfred's waist even more tightly as they sped past everything making the world merely a colourful blur and Arthur's shrieks of unbridled terror mingled with Alfred's joyous shouts of adrenaline at the feeling of speeding on the Firebolt at a thousand-miles-per-hour and-

And they stopped.

Shakily, still in shock from the high-speed flying, Arthur panted heavily against Alfred's back, still holding his waist for dear life, so hard that bruise marks were probably left. Alfred, on the other hand, was whooping gleefully, actually pumping his fists in the air (much to Arthur's terror; what if they fell?!). He quickly spun his head round to see Arthur's reaction to the fastest flight in the history of flying.

"Are you alright? It's just a bit of flying, nothing to get so scared about!" He said, giggling. Perhaps this was meant to be comforting, but Arthur spluttered indignantly before finally finding the words to express his outrage.

" _A bit of flying_?! _A bit_?! We were flying faster than Viktor Krum! _Viktor Krum_!" He fumed, but the seething effect Arthur might have been going for was undermined greatly by the fact that he was still pressed against Alfred and showed no signs of letting go.

"And that's the fun of it all! This Firebolt's _awesome_ , dude! The whole Irish team ride them, and I can so see why! That flight was literally the best and easiest flight I've ever done!" Alfred said animatedly, suddenly doing a roll with the broom that made Arthur squeal as it spun upside down, and breathe a sigh of relief as the broom righted itself. _I hate flying, but if I'm going to fly, at least keep the damn broom the right way up!_

"Shall we go down, now?" Arthur suggested hopefully, but those hopes were dashed as Alfred shook his head, then turned to face him excitedly. Well, as best as he could on a broom.

" _You're_ gonna fly now, Artie!"

"W-W- _WHAAAAT_?!" Was Alfred _insane_?! _Him_ , fly? That was, that was like telling Ludwig to chat up a girl, or telling Kiku to go hug somebody! In other words, _completely irrational and spelling DISASTER_!

"Hey, I'll be right behind you, so if you fall, we fall together. And you can use me as a cushion, if you want." Alfred said, smiling.

"But I don't _want_ to fall!" Arthur cried, sticking his head out from its safe zone in Alfred's back and just over the broom so he could see how high they were. _Too damn fucking high._

"Then you won't fall! Simples, huh?" Alfred replied. Arthur scowled. They told _Arthur_ off for being a stubborn brat, but had they _met_ this stupid American?!

"Alright, fine, but we'll have to go to the ground in order to switch places, won't we?" Arthur said, an idea hatching in his mind. If he could just get Alfred to get them to the ground, he could make a mad dash for freedom... It was crude, but effective. Anything to get him off the broom as quickly as possible.

Of course, Alfred just _had_ to ruin that plan.

"What? No we don't! Here, just sit tight for a minute..." Alfred objected. Then, he carefully removed Arthur's clinging arms from his waist, and all of a sudden, he had swung himself off the broom and was hanging from it by his hands, like it was nothing. And, just like that, he had positioned himself behind Arthur, without so much as a moment's hesitation. All from sixty feet in the air.

"How-how-how the _bloody fuck_ -" Arthur stammered wildly, in pretty much awe of the playful boy sitting behind him. He couldn't turn round to face him for fear of falling off, but he could practically see the big giant grin on Alfred's features, stretching from ear to ear.

"I told you, I'm awesome on a broom. So, let's go! You have full reign now to go wherever you want, at whatever speed you want. Oh," He went on, "But don't go too slow. I'll just make us speed up, then."

"Marvellous." Arthur muttered under his breath, his clammy hands gripping the Firebolt like it was his life support. He had no Alfred to clutch now, and this sleek, polished broom was his only substitute. "Um... How do I accelerate?"

"Just lean forward. Lean back and pull on the broom a bit if you wanna slow down or brake." Alfred supplied. Arthur nodded mutely, then steeled himself. He was going to have to do it. Might as well do it now. He leant forward ever so slightly, and _whoosh_ , he was off.

"I'm going too fast, I'm going too fast, _I'm going too freaking fast_!" Cried Arthur loudly as trees and architecture zoomed by. From behind him, Alfred was laughing gleefully, clearly enjoying Arthur's turbulent flying.

"No you're not, this is fine! Keep going!" Alfred yelled back, and Arthur had the distinct impression that his hands were in the air. Realising that Alfred would be simply no use in helping him slow down to a nice, gentle flight, he focused instead on manoeuvring through the obstacles. His turns were halted and jarring, but he managed them, if just barely. Plenty of times the pair had been forced to lean sharply to the right as a tree popped up, or duck down suddenly before a branch hit them in the face. Nevertheless, they were alive by the time Arthur had done a full circle around the school, and that was the main thing.

"Hell, Artie, that was _awesome_!" Alfred gushed in an exhilarated fashion, wrapping his arms around Arthur happily.

"Alfred, I'm pretty sure I almost got us _killed_." Arthur muttered, out of breath. The life-threatening ride had knocked all the wind out of him, and he was certain that he'd never fly again.

"Yeah, that's the _point_!" Alfred said. "The adrenaline rush, the feeling that you're playing with death... Isn't it _fun_?!"

"I'll pass, thanks. You enjoy your near-death experiences." Arthur replied. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get down on the ground again."

"Aw, you still don't like flying?" Arthur could hear Alfred's pout.

"Nope. Now let's go."

"Yeah yeah... I guess I _am_ hungry."

"Are you ever not?"

Alfred got himself back in front of Arthur and sped them back down to the ground, pulling up just in time so that their feet landed lightly on the ground instead of being plummeted into it face-first like Arthur had thought. He wasted no time in clumsily stepping off the broom and dusting down his robes, which had quite a few dead leaves and many more snowflakes on them.

"Oh, Mattie and Francis are done now, too." Alfred noted, gesturing to their left, where, sure enough, the other two were dismounting their broom. Matthew looked bemused and a little sorry as Francis doubled up and fell to his hands and knees, trembling.

"Um, are you alright, Francis?" Matthew asked nervously.

"Never again..." Was all that was distinguishable from Francis' mutterings and mumblings. The other three laughed and went to drag him along through the snow and into the castle, where he finally got up from his position of flying fright and looked at the three of them crossly.

"I may not be ze best flyer, but I will show you all up at ze Yule Ball tonight! Zere you will see ze magnificent dancing of _un Français_!" He declared, doing a pirouette in the middle of the corridor. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"I don't pretend to be good at dancing, but even I know that the girls do pirouettes."

"Ah," Francis cut in, wagging a finger, "But if I 'ave chosen a boy for my partner, zen doesn't one of us 'ave to be _la_ _fille_?"

"Who're you going with?" Alfred asked curiously. Francis simply tapped his nose.

" _Ne posez pas de questions et je vais vous dire pas de mensonges_ , _oui_?" He sang simply, then skipped off to God-knows-where.

"Um, wasn't he supposed to go to lunch with us?" Matthew wondered, and Arthur scoffed.

"He's having one of his drama moments. He'll come prancing back in about ten minutes, acting like he didn't just speak random French to a group of English-speakers. Let's just go on without him."

"Oh thank the stars, I'm freakin' starving! Race ya there, slowpokes!" Alfred said, and was off like a bullet, leaving a slightly bemused Arthur and Matthew behind in his dust.

"Er, okay." Arthur blinked. "I suppose we'll meet up with him there. We'll have to be quick though, if we want to get any food before he devours it all."

"Good point." Matthew agreed, and they started walking again. After about a minute, Matthew spoke.

"Are you looking forward to the ball tonight? Dancing with Alfred, and all. He's a pretty bad dancer."

"I thought as much, but then, so am I, so I don't particularly care."

"So then, why the expression of foreboding?" Matthew asked, cocking his head. Arthur sighed.

"The Alfred part is the only good part of this wretched ball. If the ball was simply four hours of spending time with Alfred, I'd be delighted to attend. However, I have to dance. And, judging by Alfred's enthusiasm, it'll be a lot." Arthur explained.

"Don't you like dancing?"

"Hell no. I mean, I _am_ a British gentleman, but dancing was one of the gentlemanly hobbies I thought I could do away with." Arthur answered. Matthew was silent for a moment, then spoke again.

"He wants you to enjoy this just as much as he will. So why don't you just imagine that you _are_ simply 'spending time with Alfred'?" Matthew suggested brightly.

"What do you mean?"

"You are going to spending four hours with Alfred. You're just going to be doing some dancing alongside it. You'll still be having a laugh with him, so all you have to do is enjoy being with Alfred, and the dancing won't seem so bad." Matthew explained. Arthur shrugged.

"I'll try to remember that when I fall into Professor Dumbledore."

Matthew laughed, then placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, just before they went into the Great Hall. "You'll have an awesome time, don't worry. For Heaven's sake, you're going with that dork. He'll _make_ you enjoy yourself, even if he has to splatter Francis with pumpkin juice for your entertainment."

They made their way into the Great Hall and sat down with Alfred, who was already stuffing himself with food. He grinned at them and gave a friendly wave, and Arthur smiled and rolled his eyes exasperatedly.

Of course Alfred would find a way. This was Alfred they were talking about. Alfred the idiot, who could sort out Arthur's broom problem just by looking at him. Alfred the moron, who could fly well enough to challenge Viktor Krum. Alfred, who was full of amazing surprises.

* * *

 **A/N- I'm sorry for that really lame chapter end, I just couldn't think of how to end it, so that's what I churned out . I'm sorry.**

 **Hey hey hey, this is the second update in a week! I am, like, the King of Awesome. BOW DOWN TO ME.**

 **Oh, and Francis said 'Ask no questions, and I'll tell you no lies'.  
**

 **Nothing much to write here, other than the fact that the next chapter will almost definitely be the last one. It'll definitely be the actual ball chapter. I mean, today's the day.**

 **Also, I'm planning on writing a Battle of Hogwarts fic in this 'universe'. As in, it'll be written with THIS Arthur, and THIS Alfred, and all THESE characters. It'll be a story of about the same length as this, give or take a chapter, and will focus on Arthur's destructive relationship with his family. It'll still have the UsUk in it, but instead of being pure fluff, it'll be fluff plus hurt/comfort.**

 **I'm doing a really bad job of explaining it, but that's what I'm going to write next. Check it out when it's uploaded, if ya want. It might give you a bit of an insight into what happens to Arthur and Alfred after this story. I'm not saying it will. Just saying it might. But I am rather excited for the story; the Battle of Hogwarts has to be one of my favourite moments in the entire HP series :D Oh, and I'll be following the book version, not the film version.**

 **Well, that's it from moi! Don't forget to review, 'cause I like those. They give me a warm, fluffy feeling X3**


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